


Fractured Love

by HGRising



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Love, a collection of oneshots and drabbles i'm moving over from ff.net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HGRising/pseuds/HGRising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old LoVe oneshots and drabbles I'm moving over from ff.net to here. </p><p>Title list<br/>Blindsided: Oneshot. Could possibly turn into more if I have time. Love is what they want. Hope is all they have. And they selfishly keep it to themselves. Good for them.<br/>The Stars Over Neptune: Oneshot. Pre-series. Veronica meets a pixie who grants Veronica one wish.<br/>The Five Rings of Mars: Oneshot. AU. He spelled trouble, and she read him with her tongue. A story in which Veronica has five rings and shares her last one.<br/>Love, We're Going Down: Oneshot. AU. Futurefic. Veronica shows up in Logan's apartment to make him smiley face bacon and eggs after ten years of no contact. He's not okay with it.<br/>Shudder - Oneshot. AU. It wasn't every day that Veronica prematurely ruined a fake marriage, but it wasn't every day that Veronica had sex with her employer either. So, let's call it an exception.<br/>Sugar Kingdom Falling: Oneshot. AU. mafia!AU if you read between the lines. At eighteen, Logan is a small fish among sharks until he's not, and Veronica is there for him until she's not. Likewise, sugar is sweet until it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was appropriate that their story began with the fall of mankind. Veronica was always too curious for her own good. It was reminiscent of Pandora. Logan and Veronica portrayed as Epimetheus and Pandora. Slightly PWP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Watching the series, I always thought that if Veronica learned just walk away from always having to know everything all the damn time, she and Logan would be happy. She reminded me of Pandora. I know I am greatly bastardizing this myth, but it's all in the name of LoVe. Slightly PWP, but I wanted to try my hand at it. Enjoy.

**Blindsided  
**

.

**In the Beginning**

**Epimetheus and Pandora**

_The story of two beings who we know as Logan and Veronica began appropriately just after the birth of the human race._

_Epimetheus, though you know him as "Logan", was the brother of Prometheus. And Prometheus cared greatly for the mortals. He was a god, and they were unguided and weak against everything else in the newly created world. He couldn't help but pity them. So Prometheus stole fire for them._

_For his second deed, Prometheus had his brother's help. Unbeknownst to others, Epimetheus was as cunning a trickster as his brother; however, he was also rasher. And when the ruling gods of Olympus were arguing over what the mortals would sacrifice to them, Epimetheus quickly told Prometheus to cut up a great ox, wrap the good parts in the hide and disguise them with entrails. For the remaining parts of the ox, Prometheus was to gather the bones and rebuild them in a way that would allow the two brothers to disguise the bones in shining fat. From the two, Zeus would choose. Zeus had fallen for their trick and man got to keep the good parts of the animals._

_Epimetheus did not think of the consequences, and Prometheus wanted too much to help the mortals._

_Unsurprisingly, Zeus punished Prometheus. He had Prometheus chained to a rock with a bird that forever pecked at his innards as his companion. Since he was immortal, Prometheus would never die from the bird's abuse._

_Zeus had a different type of punishment for Epimetheus; it was disguised in the form of a gift. Prometheus had always warned Epimetheus against taking gifts from Zeus, but Epimetheus disregarded his brother's advice. The gift was far too lovely._

_Zeus said her name was Pandora, the gift of all. The Olympians had created her as an evil for Epimetheus and mankin. She seemed sweet and lovely, and all the gods gave her gifts to enchant those she met. She would be the embodiment of the term "beautiful disaster"._

_She was the first woman. And she was his._

_._

"Pandora," he called.

She bounded into the room happily at his call. He took in her appearance fully when she sat beside him. Her cheeks were slightly smudged with dirt. She had been exploring the gardens, no doubt. He was taken with her and her immense curiosity. He liked to watch her with her new discoveries. The look of fascination she usually held was adorable to him.

And although he was usually content to live without much consideration to the world around him, her curiosity had rubbed off on him, too. One glorious day, he had woken up with her in his arms. It was a week after Zeus had given her to him. And it was then that he finally thought to ask her what was in the box that Zeus had given her. She simply told him that Zeus wanted her to keep it safe and that she must never open it. That was as far as he got because she began to run her hand up his chest. This predictably led to another satisfying session of love making, and he never thought to inquire further.

"Yes?" Her eyes were lit with a bright intensity.

He kissed her forehead. "I just wanted you nearby while I oversee the mortals' progress." He wanted to continue watching over the creatures in his brother's absence.

She laughed and replied, "You've been living alone for a long time before I came. What did you do with yourself then? Sit and sulk?"

"I believe my brother called it brooding." He smirked.

She made a noncommittal sound and moved to sit in his lap. Epimetheus wrapped his arms around her slight waist. He wondered if all the mortal women would have as lithe a form as she did. But even then he knew his Pandora would still be the loveliest.

He began to play with her long, soft hair. It was the same color as Helios' shining sun beams, making their way to earth.

"He would've liked you," he continued. "He was a champion of all things weak and small. Though he did need prompting sometimes." He tickled her.

She squirmed in his lap, trying to get away from him. But he held her firm with one arm across her slim waist. Through her laughing gasps, she jokingly glared, "What are you implying?"

He stopped tickling her and gently held her right hand. He brought it to her lips and kissed her fingertips. "Something. Nothing. It depends. Do they make women smaller than you?"

"If they did, would you leave me for another?" She couldn't resist asking. She just couldn't understand his attraction to her. She wondered when he would leave her for a goddess more buxom than she. She had seen the way the other goddesses looked at him and saw their attempts to lure him away from their home.

He tensed for a moment. He knew of her ever present but rarely voiced insecurity. It was reflected in her eyes sometimes. So, he sought to comfort her. "You wound me. I only want you. You ought to know that by now."

She smiled at him.

"What. No quip?"

"Nope." Her smile turned into a sly grin.

"Mmm… I know that look. That's your 'I'm thinking of ways to punish Epimetheus' look, isn't it?"

"You don't know me at all. This is my 'Epimetheus has earned a reward' look."

She shifted slightly and turned her body to wrap her arms around his neck. Kissing him deeply, she ran her fingers through his dark, chestnut hair. And before he could respond to the kiss, she pulled back.

He pouted at her. "Then why does this feel like a punishment?"

She tilted her head and looked at him from beneath her lashes. "Because it is. But, you enjoy it." She brushed her hand against his obvious arousal.

He moaned. "Ever the tease."

She smiled and attempted to stand, but he held onto her. So, she pressed her lips against his once more, nibbling at his lower lip.

He parted his lips slightly, groaning at the taste of her. He would never tire of it.

As he deepened the kiss, he felt her fingers pull at his hair and smiled against her lips. A hand left her waist to cup her breast, kneading it. She moaned lightly into his mouth. Encouraged by her moans, he pressed his thumb against the tip of her breast and drew circles around it. Immediately, he felt it harden beneath her dress. Dipping his head, he kissed the base of her neck.

Suckling at the soft skin there, he left his mark and smiled.

Seeing his satisfied expression and realizing what he'd done, she lightly swatted at his head in admonishment. This only made his boyish smile widen.

Gently, he pushed the strips of cloth holding her dress up off her shoulders to finally reveal her modest chest and flat stomach. Feeling the cloth fall away from her, Pandora blushed slightly, but Epimetheus did not see it. He dipped his head lower, kissing the tops of her globes with his mouth. She gasped softly at his heated kisses, warming her skin.

He loved the little sounds she made and loved even more that he was the one who elicited those sounds from her.

Continuing his kisses, leaving more marks on her, his hand drifted closely to the apex of her thighs.

"Epimetheus. Not here."

He silenced her with a definitive kiss.

He then pushed aside the draped fabric and met smooth skin. Teasingly slow, his hand made its way close to her apex once more but stopped just before it.

Realizing that his hand had stopped moving, she whined slightly. "And I was the tease how?"

He gazed at her mockingly. "But, you enjoy it."

In response, she straddled him, making sure to rub against his arousal as she did so. Almost impossibly, his cock hardened further.

"You will be the death of me." He punctuated each word with a kiss. "Tease."

She pretended to look affronted. "I'm only a tease if I don't go through with it."

"I see."

"You will see." She ground her arousal against him again, earning her another moan. "Now where were we?" Taking advantage of his distraction, she made quick work of divesting him of his robes.

Feeling the air hitting his bare skin, he asked, "How is this even remotely fair?" He grabbed her gently by her hips and lifted her off his lap. His hands went to the sash holding her dress up and untied it quickly. The dress pooled at her feet, and he paused to marvel at her beauty. Seeing her blush, he held his hand to her face and whispered. "Beautiful."

He looked in her eyes and saw them filled with both ardor and lust. It fueled his own desire. He turned her around and set her in his lap again with her back to his front.

She could now feel his arousal press into the small of her back and was pleased that he was as aroused as she was. "Epimetheus, please."

He began kissing her neck and cupped her breasts with both of his hands. They slowly travelled down her flat stomach before resting on her hips. "What do you want, Pandora?"

She bit her lip but did not answer.

His hands moved to the inside of her thighs. "What do you want?"

She couldn't take it anymore and gave in. "Touch me."

"Was that so hard?" He grinned against the back of her neck.

Her hand made its way behind her back to stroke his cock. "Very hard." She smirked.

"Cute." His hand inched closer to her center. He pressed his palm against her core, wet from arousal and pulsing with heat. His finger slipped in easily and she hissed, stroking his cock harder in response.

"Someone's excited."

She replied innocently, "Who?"

He used the pad of his thumb to rub her clitoris and two fingers to stroke her core. She was slick with desire. "Think harder."

Her mind couldn't formulate anything witty to say in response so she moaned his name in pleasure.

He pinched a nipple and squeezed her breast firmly.

"Oh," she breathed. Pleased with himself, he quickened his fingers, wanting her to push her over the edge. She stopped stroking him and instead began grinding against him. She turned around partially to wrap an arm around his neck again and kiss him. Her tongue met his with urgency. She was close to release, he could feel it.

She arched her back against him, her bottom rubbing against the head of his cock. His eyes shut tightly, and he willed himself to reign in his desire to simply fuck her senseless. But his restraint was wearing thin; he needed her to come now.

His fingers thrust into her deeply and roughly, repeating the motion with determination.

Breaking their kiss, she shouted his name as she quickly tumbled into a feeling of intense pleasure. He could feel her body slacken and held her against him so she wouldn't fall.

"Epimetheus." She said quietly, still feeling the euphoria washing over her.

"We're not done yet, love."

Still keeping her stable, he gripped hip and lifted her slightly. Dropping a quick kiss to a spot between her shoulder blades, he roughly pulled her down onto his hardened cock and took her from behind.

She inhaled sharply in pleasure, feeling him fill her completely.

He had to pause for a moment. She felt amazing, so invitingly warm and soft. It was almost overwhelming.

Bouncing slightly in his lap, she urged him to continue. This broke his revelry.

"Naughty." He kissed her shoulder and turned her head to face him to kiss her lips. Deepening the kiss, he dug his nails into her supple flesh and thrust into her with fervor.

Her moans were caught in her throat.

Pulling away, he commanded. "Touch yourself."

Instinctually, she obeyed and began fondling her breasts. "Epimetheus. I want you to come inside me," she said softly.

He was beyond aroused by her bold words and shy voice. He suckled at a spot on her neck and thrust into her with renewed vigor.

He could feel her walls clench around him again and she began to shake slightly. She was close again. He slowed his actions, and she whimpered.

"Shh. I got you."

He lifted her hips up to rub the tip of his cock against her clitoris. She panted his name. It was torture.

"Shh, Pandora." Repositioned at her entrance, he thrust into her deeply, pulling her along his entire length over and over again until they both came undone.

She felt his seed spill into her and his head fell into the crook of her neck. "Don't move." She almost pleaded. She wanted to memorize the feeling of him inside her.

So, they held their positions, enjoying the waves of bliss. Eventually, he regained his strength and moved despite her protests.

"I'm moving you inside," he explained. "Didn't I tell you we weren't done?"

He carried her in his arms to their bed and continued with his own brand of sweet torture.

.

"Pandora, what did you do?"

She looked guiltily at her lover.

He grasped both of her hands and held them to his chest. He repeated his question, alarmed. "What did you do?"

Her frightened eyes darted to his; she saw her own fear mirrored in them. "I opened the box. I couldn't help it. Are you mad at me?"

"No." No. He couldn't be. It was partly his fault after all. He knew about her unquenchable curiosity. He knew Zeus. And he should've known something bad would happen when he accepted a gift from Zeus. He just hadn't expected it to be of this magnitude.

The lives of the creatures he and his brother sought to make better would now be rife with all manners of disease and misfortune.

"What's going to happen now?"

"We are at Zeus' mercy now. I can only hope that I can protect you. All I want to do is protect you." He released her hands and embraced her tightly.

She nodded mutely against his chest, silently and selfishly swearing to keep the hope-filled box with them at all times.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that's how it all began.
> 
> Hope it was alright. It's not beta'ed. I also hope you enjoyed some of the quotes from the series that I inserted into the story.
> 
> I may consider adding more chapters to detail the possibly angst-ridden reincarnations of their epic love. But for now, it is complete.
> 
> xoxo.


	2. The Stars Over Neptune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-series. Veronica meets a pixie who grants Veronica one wish. LoVe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In between classes.

**The Stars Over Neptune**

.

She had stayed late, opting to practice her field goal kicks alone long after the rest of her teammates had gone home. While Veronica usually showed more dedication to the sport than her teammates, she was even more determined to get in as much practice as possible today because of the upcoming match against Pan Middle School next week.

She would kick herself if they lost to Pan again.

Unfortunately, Lilly was in one of her demanding moods again and demanded Veronica spend any of her spare time with her instead of practicing.

Of course, Veronica didn't need much prompting to spend time with Lilly anyway. She would do whatever she could to help Lilly get over her latest relationship blunder. She had warned Lilly that a relationship with someone four years older than her was doomed to failure, but the heiress didn't listen. So, when Lilly had called her with the fateful news, Veronica was already prepared with Lilly's favorite ice cream and movies with the cheesiest love stories she could find.

Though the way was unfamiliar, the air was getting chillier, and she was too tired to not take the shortcut her father had warned her against taking when he first gave her permission to walk home alone.

Noticing the time, Veronica went further down the path and quickened her steps.

She had no idea why her father wouldn't want her walking this way; it seemed perfectly safe and mostly well lit.

A nasty tumble later and Veronica figured out exactly why her father cautioned against the shortcut.

Sighing, she brushed off her soccer shorts and inspected her knees and elbows, locating the stinging cuts. There would be no way to hide this from him or her mother now. She was definitely in for a lecture tonight.

Sighing again, she almost missed the faint glow amongst the thorny bush. Curiously, Veronica brushed aside twigs and thistles, hoping to find a hidden patch of fireflies.

However, instead of fireflies, Veronica found something a tad more interesting. Hidden inside the innocuous plants was a tiny person struggling to escape.

"What…" she said softly to herself.

Hearing Veronica's surprise, the little person looked up at her with round eyes, panic apparent, and struggled more intensely against the sticky bristles.

Upon closer inspection, Veronica realized that the tiny person was more of a tiny girl than anything. With her widened eyes, Veronica could clearly see that they were of a golden color. Her hair was a shocking platinum, or perhaps just white. She wore a deep purple dress that matched the light she emitted. Veronica had thought that her dress was rather intricate before she realized that the flowing fabric trailing behind the girl was not fabric but rather gossamer wings that looked delicate to touch.

Veronica had to force her hand down to keep herself from seeing just how delicate they were.

The little fairy was incredibly beautiful to Veronica. She wanted to take her home and keep her but felt a sense of cruelty in her desires.

Veronica snapped herself out of her wonder and finally thought to help the fairy out of her predicament. Gently, she picked apart and cleared the various branches that had formed a cage around her.

Once free, the two girls stared at one another.

Breaking the silence, Veronica innocently asked, "Are you really a fairy?"

The girl inelegantly snorted, creating a slight crack in Veronica's fairytale delusions. "No," she said slowly. "I'm a _pixie_. See? I've got six wings. Way better than just four," the _pixie_ spat. Apparently, this pixie had an attitude.

Veronica thought for a moment that she was hallucinating. Or, maybe she had fallen and died. It was always a possibility. How else could she explain this?

Bringing her out of her thoughts, the pixie said with an annoyed huff of her breath, "What's your name, little girl?"

 _Little girl?_ thought Veronica. Wisely, she didn't voice her thoughts. "Veronica Mars."

"Okay then, Veronica Mars. What is your wish?"

"My what?"

"Your wish," the pixie enunciated, sounding out each syllable more than necessary and rolling her eyes impatiently. "I want to repay you for helping me out of there."

"It's okay. It wasn't much," Veronica said, unsure.

"Come on, don't you want _anything_?"

Veronica thought to herself. There was that match against Pan high. And, there was the imminent scolding from her father. Shaking her head free, Veronica still refused.

"I see right through you, you know. I see everything about you. You can't lie to supernatural beings."

Veronica arched her eyebrow skeptically.

"Okay, maybe you can lie to us, but why wouldn't you want a wish? Everyone wants to have their dreams come true."

"I don't have anything I really want. And, I want to earn the things I do want."

The pixie tapped her foot against the dirt. Her wings fluttered from side to side in unison. As if appraising her, the pixie looked straight into her eyes and insisted, "You must have something. What is it? Money? Power? Love?"

"I'm twelve," argued Veronica. She hardly thought of those things.

Except perhaps, _love_. She had seen how Lilly's 'loves' had gone and shuddered to think about what the future had in store for her.

The pixie had noticed Veronica's change in expression and prodded her. "Tell me, and it'll be yours."

"I'm afraid," Veronica confessed. "I don't want to go through what my friend goes through."

"Which is?"

"Love. She… it just… it's sad. I don't know. I told you, I'm twelve. I—I want love, true love." Veronica told the pixie. The last part came out more as a question than anything though. "Can you do that?"

The pixie tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at her like she knew something Veronica didn't. "You're a weird one."

"You're a pixie, and I'm the weird one?"

At that, the pixie crossed her arms. "Oh, here it comes. Humans are _so_ self-centered. Just because most humans can't see us, they think we don't exist. And when they do see us, they think they're crazy. Yeah, you guys are the weird ones. Whatever. You'll have your wish, Veronica Mars. I always pay my debts."

Veronica wanted to talk more to the pixie, like to ask for her name, but her wings fluttered quickly soon after and she was instantly out of her sight, leaving a tail of light and confusion as she went.

The sound of a car rushing by caused Veronica to slowly come out of her haze, and she realized she was going to be late for dinner if she didn't get home soon.

Like she predicted, she was scolded by her father that night, but it wasn't as bad as she expected. The rest of the day proceeded as normal.

However, when she went to bed that night, she was almost certain she had thought the whole thing up. It had to have been a byproduct of her long days playing soccer and fatigue catching up to her. Pixies didn't exist. They just couldn't.

That line of thinking had lasted all the way up to her first kiss with Logan.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This definitely could have been developed more, but I have no interest in that when there are other things to do… Also, there may be a lot of holes and such too, but it was written fairly quickly by my standards. So, just enjoy. Try out King of Mars if you're interested in my other LoVe stories. Yes, that was a shameless plug.


	3. The Five Rings of Mars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. He spelled trouble, and she read him with her tongue. A story in which Veronica has five rings and shares her last one.
> 
> There was a ring for each finger.

**The Five Rings of Mars**

.

/Her first ring/

_He spelled trouble, and she read him with her tongue._

Duncan introduced them.

Their eyes locked upon meeting.

Carefully, Duncan introduced them. "Veronica Mars, meet Logan Echolls."

Silence followed; both sized the other up until finally Logan got tired of the standoff and broke the silence.

"Hey."

He ignored the triumphant look in her eyes.

"Hey."

Duncan slung his arm around her and spoke comfortingly to her, obliviously misreading the situation. "Don't worry, Veronica. He may look scary, but you shouldn't be afraid of him."

Even blind, Logan could tell that Veronica wasn't afraid. He knew it, and she knew it, but she didn't bother telling Duncan that and Logan didn't care enough clue him in. He was busy thinking about all the ways to teach her that she should have been.

"So you're the girlfriend Duncan begged me to pick out a promise ring for."

She didn't break eye contact. "Yep. I'm the girlfriend."

He stepped close to her; she didn't step back. Mildly impressed, he spoke just loud enough for her to hear. "But for how long?"

Her face turned stony, not knowing that it wasn't an insult but rather a challenge.

Three weeks later, he had his tongue down her throat in the Kanes' bathroom as Lilly and Duncan needlessly supervised the inflation of the pool toys.

More weeks passed and nothing changed. Veronica remained the better half of duncanandveronica. And Logan remained part of Logan and his flavor of the week.

However, even surprising to himself, Veronica became the flavor he'd seek out time and time again. He claimed it was out of convenience, but she never asked him anyway.

.

/Her second ring/

"Does it hurt?"

"Does it matter?"

"It might."

"Would you stop?"

.

/Her third ring/

_She was never faithful, but she always came back._

Tangled up his sheets, she was in a cocoon of safety and warmth and Logan.

She confessed, "Duncan asked me to marry him today."

"Did he?" he drawled, more interested in her lips than the words that spilled from them.

She absentmindedly toyed with his hair, once again locking eyes with him as she often did. "Aren't you worried?"

"You're in my bed."

"I didn't say no."

"Get out."

He watched her square her shoulders, knowing that was something she did when she was hurt but refused to show it. He remained impassive. She would be back. She always came back. No matter how badly she treated him or he treated her, she'd always come back. By his third glass of whiskey, he almost felt better about himself.

She went to his house after her engagement party, and he fucked her until she knew exactly why she was apologizing. Why he was apologizing.

.

/Her fourth ring/

_He was never honest, and that was okay._

Her hand felt strangely weighted as she ran her nails down his back. She might as well stop pretending now.

"I can't love you."

"That's okay."

Just don't love anyone else either.

.

/Her fifth ring/

_In the end, there was only suffering._

"Tell me it's not his."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just putting thoughts to paper/word documents. Was it confusing? It was meant to be. I got confused just writing it. But… at least I knew what was generally going on ^^. Muahaha. It's Duncan's fault anyway.
> 
> Her rings in sequential order: 1. Promise ring. 2. Deflowering. 3. Engagement ring. 4. Wedding ring. 5. Suffering.
> 
> Edit: It's odd. I wrote this a while ago and never posted it.


	4. Love, We're Going Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Futurefic. Veronica shows up in Logan's apartment to make him smiley face bacon and eggs after ten years of no contact. He's not okay with it. Updated for coherency...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So… this happened. Actually, this happened while I was in the middle of writing King of Mars, but I never posted it cause I forgot about it until now and never had time to edit it before. I'm doing it now because I want to mess around with some oneshots before delving into another chapter length fic that I'll get too busy to update regularly. So, because I liked the idea, I offer you this. This picks up about ten years after season three, and they haven't seen each other since the season finale.

**Love, We're Going Down**

.

The first day he finds her in his apartment, making coffee and casually reading his newspaper—acting like she _belonged_ , like she always belonged—, he thinks he finally lost his mind. Too many late nights alone, he concludes. Too long without regular social interaction that his mind had to conjure someone up to keep him company. But, if his mind picked her, he figures he might just be a masochist.

Still, for a traitorous moment, he thinks he could live with that. Then, she opens her mouth, though, and ruins the entire illusion.

"Well this answers that whole 'boxers or briefs' question I had for… how long has it been?"

Tersely, he responds, "If memory serves, you found that out firsthand a long time ago." Then he adds, "Ten years."

"That long, huh?"

He glares at her from across the room, still standing in the same spot he stood when he first saw her. He's frozen to the spot and can't think of something hateful to say that would accurately encompass all of the emotions threatening to burst from every square inch of his skin. He settles for, "Yeah."

Pouring him a cup of coffee, she remarks, "You'd think we'd have a class reunion or something by now."

He finally moves to ungraciously accepts _his_ coffee because it was _his_ , damn it, and he really needed caffeine to deal with her now and the rest of his day later. "That was last year."

"Oh. Right. Did you go?"

He didn't remember either, but his assistant was particularly annoying with reminders for the event that week. Not that it did a lot of good seeing as how he ignored it all. "No."

"Why not?"

She seems genuinely interested, but he's been fooled before.

Truthfully, though he isn't sure if she deserves the truth, he answers, "No one I wanted to see."

She tilts her head in that way that reminds him of better and not that much better days of so long ago.

"No one?"

And he swears that he hears disappoint in her voice, and his palms start to sweat. But maybe he imagined it. Like maybe he imagined her. She isn't really in his kitchen right now, is she? He forgets that they didn't exactly part on great terms the last time he actually _talked_ to her.

"No."

"Oh."

She turns around, now busying herself with serving up bacon and eggs. He half expects the food to be arranged in a smiley face like she used to make for him.

"Well, I missed it too. I guess."

The coffee seems to waken his common sense enough for him to finally point out, "You broke into my apartment."

"Please. It wasn't breaking in."

This is more of what he's used to, and he involuntarily becomes less tense.

"I know I set my alarm."

She shrugs, and it annoys him. It's like she's shrugging _him_ off.

"Some pieces of string and a few cans would've been a better alarm."

"You broke in."

"For good reason."

He's curious now. Why was she here? Why now? Why his kitchen? Why _now_? Of all times. Why at all?

"Which would be?"

 _Why now?_ He repeats it in his mind. But he can't really ask _her_ that. He doubts she would ever give him a straight answer. She was always hiding things from him even when they were kids. Once, he didn't even know she was going out on Aaron's yacht with them until he saw her on deck with Lilly, laughing like she'd been there all along and couldn't believe he didn't think she'd come.

Now that he thinks about it, she was always the more dangerous of the two. She's the one he should have stayed away from. Not that he stayed away from the other one either.

He thinks he missed her reply, but judging by the look on her face, he knows he hasn't. He can tell she's trying to figure out how much she should tell him. How much she could get away with not saying. The least amount of information she could part with that would still appease him. So calculating. So _Veronica_.

He crosses his arms, showing that he could outwait her.

"I missed the reunion," she tries.

"You couldn't wait another nine years?"

They both know he won't let her get away with that kind of answer; so, she's not surprised or disappointed by his lack of acceptance.

She tries again with a small smile. "I had to see you."

"Really." And he's seriously considering this for a moment and immediately knows he's a fool. He's been a fool for ten years and hadn't known it. He rubs his hand over his face and downs the rest of the coffee. "Yeah. Whatever. Do what you want. Take what you want. You usually do anyway." With no further word, he goes back to bed, hoping that a few hours of sleep would make everything go away.

Veronica is left alone next to Logan's espresso machine when he leaves.

When Logan wakes up again later that day, Veronica is still there, but his smiley face breakfast is missing an eye.

.

Over the next few weeks, they exchange fewer and fewer words. In exchange, each action or gesture grows in significance. He reads into them more and more. Still, sometimes, she sort of just blends into the background, so much so that he forgets she's there sometimes. But he never really forgets because it's _her_ and she's _here_.

He's not sure where she's sleeping either. On the couch, maybe. She's awake before he is and he stays in his room after dinner, working away on some software code or other that he's supposed to send to his assistant every week to show his contractors that he's not just frittering away his time and their money. He's tempted to ask her what she does when he can't see her but not tempted enough.

.

She cooks sometimes. Though, no more smiley face breakfasts or smiley face anythings. Other times, he does. One morning, to make his displeasure at her reinvasion of his life known, he almost serves the angry face shaped pancakes he makes to her. Rethinking it, he eats it before she can see.

The surrealness of it all is highlighted only by the routine they seem to settle into without him noticing. He doesn't ask her why she's there after the first time he asked. He feels like he shouldn't ask her either. As if, once he asks, she'll remember she has something to do and then leave him behind when she does it. And, he can't even bring himself to possibly admit that maybe he doesn't want that to happen. As expected, she doesn't offer any answers either.

.

His assistant, Jonathon, comes every other day to deliver grocery or his mail. He doesn't understand who Veronica is and why she's there.

When he asks Logan, Logan just shrugs. He never could answer the former, and he certainly can't answer the latter.

Logan notices that Veronica just smiles at Jonathon whenever he comes by to drop things off. Only, it's not a real smile. It's the calm and quiet kind. One of those smiles that's meant to unhinge someone. Where you don't really know why the other person is smiling, and that's just a little bit creepy. He recognizes it from during their heyday. Apparently, she's still using it, and it still works. Though, he doesn't know why she's using it against his assistant.

Logan finds it amusing that Jonathon is afraid of Veronica because he is too. At least a little. It validates his feelings and lets him know that it's not ridiculous to be afraid of the blonde who's more than half a foot shorter than him after so long.

When she finally does say something to Jonathon, Logan sees Jonathon visibly jump out of his skin at the broken silence and stifles his laughter.

"Can you buy two game hens for next week?"

Jonathon stutters, "Yeah. No problem."

"Thanks."

She goes back to smiling at him, and he sees Jonathan sneaking scared glances at her ever so often, more scared than before when she hadn't said anything to him.

It's the most hilarious thing Logan has seen in weeks, and he laughs out loud. Veronica looks at him like he's crazy, but it only makes him laugh harder because maybe he is crazy. At least a little.

.

He's not laughing when Veronica wakes him up in the middle of the night. He almost slips up and pulls her into bed with him, a familiar motion from times past, but she doesn't notice. Or, she lets it go anyway. She's busy and frantic as she moves away from him and throws clothes at him.

She doesn't bother whispering, and it's ridiculously loud for that time of night. "We need to go."

He pulls the shirt she threw at him over his head. Gruffly, to show his annoyance at being woken up, he asks, "What?"

"We need to go now," she stresses the word 'now' like all his answers could be found in that one little word.

The jeans come on and he's just in shoes by the time Veronica drags him out his bedroom. He amuses himself for a moment by imagining Veronica dragging him naked to wherever she was planning to take him.

His mind catches up to him and recognizes her panic. "This isn't a fire drill, is it?"

She's still going fast. "Not a drill, no"

Alarmed, he asks louder, "There's a fire?" His eyes dart around, looking for any sign or indication of when he should start running and where.

"No. Not that I know of anyway. But you're in danger."

Something clicks in his mind and his close friend, rage, embraces him. He firmly digs his heels into the carpet. "Of course," he begins. "What have you got yourself into this time?"

He catches a glimpse of hurt before she expertly covers it up, and it tames him. He feels pathetic.

"Not me. You."

"Me?" He snorts, not believing her. There's not much someone can get up in the confines of his own house.

"Remember our friend Gorya Sororkin?"

"Who?"

"Gory."

" _Who_?"

"The guy you beat up at the end of freshman year at Hearst?"

"Oh, him," he says before realizing the implications. It's enough for her to gain the upper hand again and continue leading him out of his apartment. "The fucking Russian mob is after me?"

"Just a small, crazy part of it."

"Why now?"

"Because he's insane, and his uncle just died, so he's taken over and is in the process of taking revenge on _everyone_ he blacklisted since God knows when."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It's a real list and everything."

"I meant with him. That was a decade ago."

"Did I mention he was insane and just came into power?" She looks him straight in the eye when she whispers a confession. "You were next on the list, but we hadn't found him yet. I didn't know what to do."

He surprises her by asking, "CIA?"

"FBI."

"Congratulationss."

"Thanks. Where's your car?"

"So they told you to look after me?

"Not exactly," she admits.

He doesn't pry further. "We need to take the elevator down to the parking garage."

"Great. Come on."

"But my stuff."

"I already grabbed everything from your desk. It's in my bag."

"How'd you know that's what I meant," he asked suspiciously.

"I knew what to look for."

He thinks he should've known. "But you've seen _everything_ while you were looking?"

Veronica averts her eyes in a rare display of open shyness and apology. "Yeah."

Logan tries to focus on his apparent imminent doom instead of his embarrassment because of… priorities.

The elevator takes forever to get them down to the garage, as usual.

"You need to find a better apartment," she exclaims when they finally reach their level.

"Well, I usually don't have to leave in a hurry."

"Maybe you should think about that for next time."

"I was hoping there wouldn't be a next time. Or a this time for that matter."

"Come on, we're not going to die."

"I prefer the possibility not even be considered."

"Then I suggest you stop pissing people off."

"Yeah. I'll think about it."

"You do that."

Veronica pulls out Logan's keys and his car alarm chirps, signaling to her which one was his, and they hop in. Veronica is in the driver's seat, and he prays to God his car comes out of this okay.

.

They return from the hotel Veronica stashed themselves for eighteen excruciatingly tense hours in time to see someone from the FBI leading Jonathon away in handcuffs. Other people, presumably also FBI agents, are combing his apartment, looking for bugs, or so they said.

They finish up as dawn breaks, assuring him there is nothing else in the apartment—not that they properly explained what was in there in the first place—and apologizing for the inconvenience. He can't bring himself to even pretend to give a shit that Jonathon was selling his software codes to other countries and potentially jeopardizing national security. Or that Veronica lied to him to get him out of his house to set up a sting operation or whatever bullshit they were feeding him. But, with this, he does care that, since her job was done here, she won't be there when he wakes up the next time.

Logan watches the others file out of his apartment slowly but doesn't see Veronica go with him. She's standing in the kitchen, the last to leave.

"Typical Veronica Mars. She always gets her man," he says spitefully before she could leave the way she came. There's more anger behind his words than should be necessary but he feels it all.

On one hand, he knows he's not really mad at her for catching the bad guy and saving the day. In fact, it brings about a flood of warm memories when he's watched her do the exact same thing when they were younger. Only this time, she's carrying a real gun and not just a stun gun.

But, he's hurt. He's finally mature enough to admit to himself that he's hurt because she didn't really come here for him. Not really. And God damn did it hurt.

He sees her mind working, considering him. She tilts her head to give him a meaningful look that teases him with the secrets hidden behind it.

"No," she says simply. But it's not that simple. She continues like she's sad, and he desperately wants to believe that she is. "Not always."

He knows she's trying to convey everything she can't say into that look, but it fails. He can't understand what she doesn't say. Though, he should've been an expert at it after the silent weeks they spent together. They're always so complicated. So unable to be defined with words. So, maybe her silence now was fitting.

Everything is failing between them again, and it feels like they're back in college.

He doesn't want to wait another ten years to see her or until the next time he's in trouble and she needs to save him, but he doesn't stop her when she leaves without saying goodbye.

.

Later that day, she wakes up from a much needed slumber thinking that she missed the final last chance she would ever have, and she hates herself for it.

But, as she tends to be when it comes to him, she's wrong.

She opens the bedroom door to her spartan apartment and is hit with a welcoming aroma. It doesn't alarm her though. She fondly remembers that smell. She rounds the corner, through the hallway, and wanders into her kitchen. Despite her quick mind and the evidence she's been given, she's still surprised to see Logan standing over her stove, and it feels right.

"Hey."

"Morning."

"Not quite, sleepyhead."

Logan continues cooking what she thinks is pasta with a white creamy sauce because he knows she prefers it over the red sauce that's usually served. Other people think she goes absolutely crazy over any sort of Italian food, but that's not true. Well it kind of is true, but she still has preferences. And he knows that.

"What took you so long?" She asks as she sets the table for two. Because that seems like a safer thing to say than _Why are you here?_ Honestly, she should know the answer to that anyway. But, she's rarely ever honest with herself, rarely ever lets herself hope or dream or be content. She's afraid that someone will take the happiness away from her because she doesn't deserve it. So, she hides it. She's not unfeeling. She's just afraid.

"I had to pick up some condoms."

She barely bats an eyelash at his response. It's just such a Logan thing to say, and she flippantly responds in kind while nodding. "No glove, no love."

.

Veronica hasn't seen Logan for a few days since they reconciled several times in her apartment, and she misses him. He says he's busy sorting through the mess with Kane Software and his other contractors and would see her as soon as he could, but it's not enough. She's worried. They have so much they still need to say to each other. So much to explain and work through before they can really move on and be _something_.

By chance, she sees the trash piling up in her small kitchen. It was a little after midnight, but she never does things at normal times of the day anyway. Dragging her bag of recyclables behind her, she presses the button for the elevator and waits.

There's a familiar ping and a more familiar voice coming from within.

"Going down?"

She doesn't skip a beat, but her heart does.

"I'm ready when you are."

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As I was writing it, I thought it could be a multi-chaptered fic, but I didn't have the energy for that, not with my other unfinished stories... Anyway, hope you enjoyed it at least a bit.
> 
> Also, for the ardent fans out there, the espresso machine was for you. And me. Wink.
> 
> Edit: Just found this fic and though I'd post it. It's rather very unpolished, but short of turning it into something bigger than I would want to handle, I'm submitting it as is. I think I was experimenting with writing in present tense, so sorry if things seem a little off because of it. I'm not used to writing in pretense tense… Hope you enjoyed it anyway. ^^
> 
> Update: Whoops. Did not realize that I didn't include the part where Logan realized Veronica was lying about Gory. That... was probably confusing. My bad.


	5. Shudder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. It wasn't every day that Veronica prematurely ruined a fake marriage, but it wasn't every day that Veronica had sex with her employer either. So, let's call it an exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Or, shutter if you're a fan of puns. Because I am. That's why that's the title. Once again, another oneshot that I semideveloped while writing King of Mars and didn't post. Posting it now because why not? I actually don't have time, I'm just a terrible person. I'm planning another multichaptered fic, so I might as well enjoy posting completed things… This is an AU fic and just a little (Edit: a lot) smuttier than what I usually write. Veronica's a professional photographer, and Logan's an actor who has hired Veronica to be his wedding photographer. This would be an AU in which they have never met before. Enjoy. ^^

**Shudder**

.

"So, you're the photographer I'm pissing my money away on?"

"Yep," Veronica replied.

He crossed his arms and regarded her appraisingly. "How's the wedding look?"

"Just peachy."

After a lengthy silence that was not entirely uncomfortable, he leaned against one of the marble columns his newly wedded wife had installed into the courtyard for the wedding. Trying again to provoke some sort of reaction from her, he casually commented, "You're at a wedding, you know. You could try smiling."

She briefly tore her focus away from her camera to tell him, "No. You're at a wedding. I'm at work. Do you smile all the time when you're working?"

Settling in further against the column, he grinned. "No. But that's probably because my current role is a newly widowed husband. Not much smiling needed."

"Planning ahead, I see."

"Nah. Even if she is a bitch, I can't kill her. I'm entirely too pretty for prison."

Veronica focused her lens on the string quartet playing in the grass rather than the person who was getting increasingly closer to her. A part of her wished he'd stick to the column. A part. "Don't you have someone else to bother? You are at a wedding, you know," she mocked. "Yours, if I recall."

"I thought I'd do myself a favor and keep the only other sober person company."

"You chose an interesting day to stop drinking."

"Actually, it's been about three years now. Don't you read the papers?"

"I generally don't read anything that lists sex tips as one of its headlining articles."

"Yeah. Even from over there, I could tell you didn't need the tips either."

Veronica arched her eyebrow in challenge. "No. I wouldn't."

In a voice one would use to inquire about the weather, he suggested, "Care for a threesome with me and the new missus later then?"

She laughed sharply, and he counted it as a victory. "Even you can't pay me enough for that. Points for being able to afford me as a photographer though."

"I'm not hearing no."

"No, Mr. Echolls."

Undeterred, he continued, "Just a twosome then? Fine. But since I'm already breaking so many rules for you, I'll have to be firm and say only minimal cuddling after. I have a honeymoon to go on after all."

Veronica snapped a few more pictures of the adorable flower girl dancing with a reluctant ring bearer before turning back to examine him. She asked him with a critical eye, "Are you sure you're not drunk?"

"I'd be enjoying this farce of a celebration a lot more if I were."

She tapped the side of her camera, contemplating the situation. "Call me crazy, but are you sure you were supposed to marry her? Like, did you get 'propose' and 'proposition' mixed up somehow?"

Logan chuckled. "Nope. She's the one. Got her name tattooed on my ass too. Property of … something or other. I can't remember who won the argument between using either 'honeypie' or 'bitch' in lieu of her actual name."

When Veronica didn't respond, Logan said, "It doesn't seem like you do much for the amount we're paying."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm tolerating you pretty well right now. That takes a lot of effort. _Trust_ me."

.

Half an hour later, they were in a private gazebo located far away from the rest of the party. His head was in between her thighs as she sat on the bench with her legs spread, lace panties twisted around one of her ankles. He was making his way slowly up to her center, and she wouldn't dare stop him even if the gazebo were on fire. The tease.

Transiently, she thought, perhaps if she were less disillusioned with the sanctimony of marriage, she wouldn't be in the process of fucking the groom on his wedding day. But, a flick of his tongue dispelled most coherent thought from her mind. And, as it was, her moral fiber left when her mother did.

"I'm marrying her for the publicity, you know," he said, pausing.

She groaned in frustration and rudely remarked, "I didn't really ask. Nor do I care. Stop talking and keep doing that thing with your tongue. Right _there_."

Impatiently, Veronica's hands pushed at his head, but he pulled back again, explaining, "Just thought you'd want to know in case you were worried about ruining a marriage."

With a glare, she asked, "Do I look concerned?"

"My position leaves me at a disadvantage, darling. I can't tell anything from down here except that you're really enjoying yourself. As am I, by the way."

"Wrong. I _was_ enjoying myself. Before you started talking about all that nonsense." When he didn't continue, she sighed, adjusting herself and pulling him up by his shoulders to face her as best she could with her sitting and Logan kneeling in front of her. "Do you know how many _high society_ weddings I've done, Mr. Echolls? I can pretty much pinpoint when a marriage is going to end at this point just by watching the wedding."

Intrigued, he asked, "How long do you think my fake wedding's got?"

"I'm not sure if it'd apply since it's _fake._ But, my money is on eight months. Just long enough to finish promoting your movie and well enough after sales have dropped off so people can't say you did it for the publicity. Oh, don't look so surprised. I said I wasn't sure if it'd apply, but I didn't say I wouldn't know anyway. It's not the first time I've shot a fake celebrity wedding."

After processing that bit of information, he regained his composure and stated, "Well, I hope it's the first time you've fucked the groom."

She rolled her eyes but was grateful he accepted the situation for what it was. Aggressively, she pushed him backwards flat onto his back and knelt down off the bench to straddle him properly. Rolling her hips against his, she asked, "Remind me. Have we fucked yet?"

He released a short chuckle in amusement and pleasure. Placing his hands on the sides of her hips to balance her and hold her in place, he thrust up against her in response.

Emitting her own sounds of approval, she tilted her head down to grin back at him. "Well, that _feels_ like a no, but I'm not convinced."

She bent down to kiss him and he met her more than halfway, shifting so she was pressed flush against him.

She tasted her own arousal on his lips and slid her tongue in deeper, robbing him of coherency. Lifting herself up just enough to make room for her hand to snake down in between them, she pushed the fabric of her dress, sticky from sweat, to the side and undid his belt. He met her hand with his own. Each click of his zipper being pulled down served to heighten her anticipation, and he eagerly helped her push his pants and boxers down to his thighs before she resettled down on him.

Veronica's skin burned where her body made contact with his. It was maddening. But, catching sight of his parted lips and unfocused eyes, she knew she wasn't the only one feeling feverish. She wanted to kiss him again where the sweat glistened against his temple. But, first.

Her previous grin quirked into a wolfish smile as she held his chin and forced him to face her, making sure he was at least could see what she was doing, and licked her palm with the flat of her tongue, making it slick.

His pupils dilated, but his gaze intensified.

Without breaking eye contact, she took advantage of his attention and lightly ran her fingers along his length before encircling her fingers around him. She started slow, achingly so, reveling in the power she had over him. He grunted loudly before roughly gripping her hand in his and quickening her pace, thrusting into it and almost bucking her balance.

Breathlessly, she said, "Impatient, are we?"

"Shut. Up."

Chuckling to herself, she pushed his hand away and, before he could complain, unceremoniously impaled herself onto him without warning. Both exhaled sharply, not resisting the new feeling.

Instinctively, Veronica's body rocked against him, leaving no part of her unfilled. She felt as if he were branding her from the inside with each movement.

"Not enough," he managed, before taking control of the pace once more.

The heat between them sparked furiously, almost blinding her. They easily found their rhythm but demanded more from each other.

Flashes of hot white imprinted against her eyelids as they fluttered closed. She saw stars going supernova.

Veronica felt his hands tighten against her hips at what should've been painful but only added to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure she felt unrelentingly forcing her to submit. Submit to what, she didn't know, but she knew she'd be rewarded soon. Her entire body tensed around him, and the pressure continued to build from deep inside her.

Desperately, searching for release in the dark, she begged him, " _Please_."

Increasing to a frenzied pace to meet her request, Logan quickly filled her again and again until finally, a dam broke within her, releasing bursts of pleasure that bordered on the fringes of pain. Her back remained arched and her eyes stayed shut as he cruelly kept her from coming down. Each thrust caused whimpers to fall from her beautiful lips.

And, with her own senses overloaded, she had only belatedly realized he had finished when he wrapped his arms around her and let his head fall back and rest against the floor of the gazebo.

Catching his breath, he tucked her in the crook of his arm and ventured, "So, when can I see you again?"

"I don't know," she said honestly, too happy to do much of anything but snuggle in closer.

He thought about it for a moment before asking, "Care to photograph my divorce?"

She sighed, "I was hoping for something earlier than eight months from now."

"Why, Miss Mars, I'm a married man."

" _Fake_ married," she pointed out, definitely not caring.

"Not in the eyes of God."

"You mean, the same God who just saw us together?"

"I figured he had the decency to at least look away."

"Ha."

"If I get things annulled tomorrow morning, do I have a chance?"

"Make it tonight."

"Tonight then," he promised. "So, do I?"

"You do."

"I do," he repeated, grinning like a fool.

Moments later, during which Veronica felt truly fulfilled, Logan couldn't resist adding, "You know, it felt a lot dirtier saying that with you now than it did a few hours ago."

Swiftly, she grabbed her half-forgotten camera on the bench behind them and snapped a picture of him with his pants down and disheveled, threatening to blackmail him with it for the unwelcomed sentiment.

Slightly disoriented from the flash, he unwisely insisted, "Come on, it was a little funny."

 _That_ earned him a punch in the chest.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm actually not sure why I wrote this. Or even finished it. At some points, I kind of forgot there was supposed to be a plot. Could you tell? Anyway, that was the last of my semi-planned half-finished oneshots, so I hope you enjoyed them. I'm not sure if I'll be writing more of these, but there will definitely be more Logan/Veronica stories to come.


	6. Sugar Kingdom Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. mafia!AU if you read between the lines. At eighteen, Logan is a small fish among sharks until he's not, and Veronica is there for him until she's not. Likewise, sugar is sweet until it's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ...I know. I should be finishing up the next chapter for Love Letters, but I've been feeling absolutely terrible (more ramblings on this at the end). This is a very, very definite AU, specifically mafia!AU. Inspired by a manga I read that eludes me right now. If anyone recognizes it, please tell me so I can give them proper credit. Essentially, Logan is a small fish among sharks until he's not, and Veronica is there for him until she's not. They start off at eighteen. Lastly, I know some of you guys won't like this. I hope you find some sweetness in it anyway.

**Sugar Kingdom Falling**

.

The door opened, and Veronica was surprised to see that she had been chosen.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," the old bat bit out.

"Sorry," she said, though she obviously wasn't. "It's hard to do more than make sure I'm not pissing myself out of joy."

They stopped in front of a door, and the woman shoved her inside, locking the door behind her.

There were two other girls waiting there for her, to primp and pamper her.

The bath was more than lovely. Veronica hadn't been allowed one for too long, usually she was lucky if she had a quick, lukewarm shower. The girls had massaged her scalp, rubbing in expensive flowery smelling oils, making Veronica wrinkle her face in disgust. It didn't matter what Veronica thought of it, however, the girls continued with the bath, finally pulling her up.

Veronica's hands instinctively flew in modesty, ignoring the fact that these girls had been _bathing_ her for the past hour or so and had already seen as much as Veronica did on a daily basis.

The girl on her left 'tutted' at her and forced her hands to the side. It wasn't as if the girl was stronger than her, but she knew it was her job and knew what would happen if she wouldn't be able to do her job. She empathized with her on that level. She, too, would be going forth on her first job in a little while.

She and her partner scanned Veronica's body, and it made her want to throw her hands up again, but she stood there waiting for their decree instead.

"She's flat," she said.

"Yes," her partner agreed.

Veronica would have been offended if it weren't true. No, wait, she was still offended and scowled at the both of them.

The shorter girl gave the girl on her left a wordless sign and nodded. Veronica had no idea what if meant but figured it had something to do with dressing her. She hoped it did anyway; she certainly hoped they didn't expect to drag her there naked.

The shorter one left and came back with soft dress in her hands. Veronica called it a dress for a lack of better words. It was luxurious, to be sure, but the high slits and low neckline hinted at its purpose.

And then, seeing herself in the dress, sitting in front of the vanity as the girls painted her face, the weight of her situation finally hit her. She was no longer just an orphan.

"You're ready."

.

She waited in the room for close to an hour.

Her nerves were frayed, and she gave up trying to drape herself seductively across the bed like the old bat had told her to do, as if she wanted to have been chosen. In actuality, she wanted to vomit, so she sat nervously at the edge of the bed, wanting to do nothing more than go back to the orphanage. Then, she bitterly remembered, the headmistress at the orphanage was the reason why she was there in the first place, and her new house differed little from the orphanage.

In her short time in the house with the other girls in their cramped rooms-one of the similarities to the orphanage-, she heard stories of when the other girls were called. From them, Veronica learned to observe her surroundings in order to prepare herself for the person who had chosen her.

She would forever remember the first girl who had talked to her, though. The other girls called her 'Big Sister' or sometimes just 'Sister.' Sister was a girl who had been there for longer than Veronica had been prepared to find out and had taken her to the side on her first day there and seriously told her to just accept who she was now; it'd make things easier for her. Then, she proceeded to tell her all the unspoken rules of the house and what she knew about the shadowy men who would patron at their house.

A man she didn't recognize blindfolded her in the car when the old bat handed her off. She wondered if the other girls had to go through the silly ritual as well. When they finally took the blindfold off, she was dropped off onto the bed. It was ridiculously soft, and Veronica was jealos.

The room wasn't as opulent as the places a few of the prettiest girls had been taken to. If Veronica were honest, it was fairly normal. Veronica guessed it was normal anyway; she had little to compare it to, going off only on the few shows she was able to watch in the orphanage and the 'reading material'-old magazines-offered there. There were little personal effects around, though, but perhaps that was normal as well. Thoughts of what was normal and what was not occupied her thoughts as she sat there.

The door opened and Veronica jumped ten feet in the air.

A man stepped in and stopped when he saw her sitting there, trying not to look as if he caught her redhanded.

She was silent as he stood there. He was examining her, not clinically like the two girls who dressed her. No, this was more.

In turn, Veronica did the same. Fair was fair after all, and she'd really like to remember more about the person they'd sold her virginity to. Quickly, she knew that although she expected nothing, she was still surprised by the person standing in the doorway.

"I was wondering what shit he'd pull for my birthday," he said to himself.

"Excuse me?" Veronica breathed out unsurely.

"Don't worry about it," the man said, still standing there while pulling off his tie. "Just my old man making sure I celebrated becoming a man the right way. Do you want any water? Food? I doubt they'd fed you much if he got you from where I know he did."

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. The girls hadn't mentioned talking. She wasn't prepared for the talking.

"No, thank you."

"No?" He frowned. "It's not a trick."

She returned the frown. "I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible if it's all the same to you."

He laughed, and it startled her. "No offense to you. I'm sure you're quite lovely and talented, but I'd rather not risk it."

Furiously, Veronica quickly exclaimed, "I'm a virgin, asshole!"

"Is that what they told you to say?"

"I am! Check!"

At that, he laughed even harder, and Veronica's face reddened.

"Fine! Forget it. You look like you suck anyway."

"Now, see, how's that fair if you get to say that about me, but I only get to think that about you?"

"Idiot."

"Real mature."

"I am. Older than you anyway."

"Really now."

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're what, eighteen?"

He nodded, mirroring her pose and crossing his own arms.

"Ha!" She shouted triumphantly. "I'm turning _nineteen_ this year."

"Congrats."

"Oh, shut up."

"I'll do that as soon as you get back to wherever."

Veronica looked down and fidget a bit on the bed and said, "I can't. They won't come back until the next morning."

"Right. Just get to bed then," he said resigned. "I'll take the couch outside."

Veronica relaxed, happy that she'd get to stay a virgin for just a little longer. She foolishly thought about perhaps escaping before it ever got to that. Then a thought struck her.

"Wait!" She spluttered.

He turned around, and she saw him grin, "What, decided that I won't suck so much? Sorry, sugar puss, still not risking it."

"No," she said emphatically, amusing him, "But... what if they ask me questions about you. You have to stay here and tell me about yourself just in case," she said, wide eyed.

His eyebrows knit together in consternation. "You really haven't done this before, have you?"

"I told you, no," she said, a little more annoyed than before.

"You don't need to know anything about me, and I don't need to know anything about you. That's usually how these things go. Hell, that's one of the reasons why these things exist."

"But what if-"

"I'll vouch for you," he said, cutting her off. "Just get some sleep and feel free to worship me benevolence in your free time."

"Thanks," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Good night."

.

"Would you just sleep already?" The man called from outside, where Veronica assumed was the couch.

She almost wanted to apologize out of guilt, but she bit her tongue. It wasn't entirely her fault she was there.

"I can't."

"Why the fuck not?"

"I don't know."

There was a loud sigh. "Well, figure it out."

She didn't respond, instead turning for the thousandth time that night. Finally, she called back, "This place feels weird. I don't like sleeping near people I don't know either." She still hadn't gotten a good night's sleep at the house.

She heard a snort from him before the rustling. The lights came on, and she was temporarily blinded by the brightness.

"Alright. My name is Logan Echolls," he said in one breath, rubbing at his face. "I'm eighteen years old, and this is my apartment."

"What are you doing?"

"Letting you get to know me, so we can both get some fucking sleep," he groused.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Veronica sat up in the bed, slightly taken aback by his generosity. But, she supposed, he benefited from her going to sleep as well. "What else then?"

He rolled his eyes and grinned tiredly at her. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, too? It'd help me to know that I'm talking to a real person and not some entity that was sent to con me out of my sleep."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Veronica Mars. I'm the new whore at Madame Bristol's house," she added wryly.

Logan's grin dropped completely, but nodded. "I'm an only child."

"Same. I think. I can't remember much."

"Why not?"

"Before I came to the house, I was an orphan, but before that, I was just a kid with parents," she laughed at herself.

His face twisted in a grimace. He didn't like hearing unpleasant stories but wanted to know in spite of it. "What happened to your parents?"

"Dad was a sheriff, or so they said."

Logan inhaled sharply, and Veronica took that as a sign of his surprise and immediate conclusion.

"Yeah. Some thug got him, and my mom left me on the orphanage doorstep after that."

"So she could be alive."

"Does it matter? She's not my 'mom' anymore. Moms don't leave their children at orphanages."

"I don't like my parents either," Logan offered, though he knew it wasn't the same. At least he still had them, no matter how unfit they were.

They ended up learning a lot about each other that night, and Veronica shared more about herself than she had even with the girls she'd known for years at the orphanage. She felt-or she hoped-that Logan did the same.

They didn't sleep much that night, or at all, and she was sad to see that the sun had risen. She was sad to go back to the house and be potentially picked again.

Logan seemed to sense her worry and told her, "Don't worry."

She scoffed and gave him sad eyes, "Wouldn't dream of it."

The doorbell rang, and it seemed to signal her death. In his apartment, she had moments where she felt her life wasn't hers, and she was just a normal girl, but she wasn't. She really wasn't.

There was an expression on Logan's face as she followed him to the door and opened it.

It was indeed the man who had taken her; he seemed somewhat surprised to see her, and it made her want to laugh.

"Mr. Echolls, it wasn't necessary to bring her to me-"

"I wanted to," he said sharply. "She's a person, you know?"

"And here I almost forgot," Veronica added, giving him a small smile, melancholy underlining it. With mock excitement, she blew him a kiss and said, "See you soon!"

Logan glanced at her with that expression again. "You will," he replied, nodding with finality.

.

But, she did see him again. The very next day, actually.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Veronica asked, trying to play off her confusion when he walked into the room, much like he did the first time she'd seen him.

He chuckled. "Yeah, best conversation of my life."

"What's going on?"

"I told you you'd see me soon."

"So, this is to prove a point," she stated blandly, pulling her feet onto his bed. "Can't say I'm not grateful that you're weird about that, though."

He leaned against the door frame, not sure if she considered him a close enough acquaintance to act freely. "No, this is me buying your friendship in a way. It's the only way I could think of to keep you out of that place," he said seriously.

"Oh."

"The infamous oh," he added with a flourish of his hand, a corner of his mouth turned up.

"Thanks."

"You actually sounded sincere there. How cute."

"Shut up!" Veronica said, blushing, but covering it up quite well by throwing a pillow at him.

Coming to sit beside her on the bed, he looked straight into her eyes and said, "Hey, you're welcome."

"Whatever."

.

Most days, Veronica was called up to 'service' him. Veronica hadn't told anyone that they did little more than talk and eat together, acting as friends would when they hung out. After a week of staying at his apartment in the ridiculous dresses until the man came for her again, he offered her use of his shorts and tshirts.

He couldn't be with her every day though, he claimed mandatory appointments, which Veronica thought was odd because he seemed too young to hold a job of much importance. Those days she wasn't with him, she feared being chosen by another. That, in and of itself, caused most girls to envy her and even hate her, going so far as to pull petty, but malicious pranks, hiding her meager possessions and leaving sharp glass in her bed. She was often sorely tempted to ask him to call for her anyway, but she held her tongue, not wanting to push his generosity.

He told her not to worry about the days he wasn't available as well when she voiced her concerns, but he wasn't the one on the line, so his words held little comfort. It wasn't until another woman, presumably a scout for someone or someplace else, wanted her to come with her and a few other girls that Veronica found out she was 'off limits.'

She waited exactly half a meeting with Logan before she burst with curiosity and asked him, "You made me off limits?"

He was a little startled by her question. They were in the middle of watching _Anastasia_ , something Veronica scoffed at because of its unrealistic storyline but secretly loved all the same because of that same hopeful progression.

"Yeah," he coughed, not looking at her.

"Why?"

"Because I know you."

"So if we didn't talk that day, I never would've seen you again, and I would be rented out practically every day to some scumbag?"

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the screen, and honestly answered, "Probably."

"Good thing you're a light sleeper," she said sincerely and selfishly.

He laughed and finally turned to her. "Yeah. Good thing."

"Why not just have me wait for you in your apartment every night then?"

His face tinged an almost unnoticeable pink in the dark lighting. She had been watching him critically since their second meeting, making sure to know as much about him as possible as to not discourage him from continuing their strange friendship. She caught the change and flushed slightly as well, remembering her position and wondering if he just chose another girl that she didn't know about, and her stomach twisted. Her mind interpreted it as a betrayal, but that didn't make sense. He didn't seem like the type to anyway. He had refused her the first night after all.

Then more softly, she asked, "How can you afford me?" Quickly, she explained, "I mean, I doubt my price is very high, but still. You've asked for me for practically every day for months now, and you made it so that other people can't ask for me. That's got to be costing you a lot. Plus, you're _eighteen_."

Bristling, he told her, "I've got enough."

"But not enough to buy me?"

"You're a person, Veronica," he said, looking at her oddly.

"I'm a whore more than a person."

He winced, "Still a person. My friend."

"Then help me," she said finally after weeks of wondering. "Let me escape. Call the cops. Do something. Don't just slap a bandaid on my problems."

He got off the couch and stood suddenly to kneel in front of her as if to ask for forgiveness. The glow from the TV bounced off of him, silhouetting him and covering up his features. "Your house belongs to the mob," he revealed. "You belong to the mob. This is as much as I can do."

She didn't bring it up again, and thought about what Big Sister said.

.

He brought her tea one day, thinking she'd like it. His mother liked it well enough at least.

That day, he found that not all women were the same, and that some girls, Veronica in particular, were like cats. They never liked what you got them, preferring the inane little things instead.

"Is this really sugar?" She had asked him in wonder, perched at the edge of his couch across from him.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, remembering that she probably didn't have too many luxuries growing up. "Yes."

"But they're colorful?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

She glared at him, and he smiled back, seeing how comfortable she had gotten with him.

He raised his hands in surrender, humoring her. "It's probably just an edible dye."

She looked at the sugar cubes in the sugar dish he'd brought along with the tea. "They're pretty," she finally declared.

"You eat them, not look at them."

"I'm appreciating them," she said haughtily.

"Then eat them."

"I will in a bit," she snapped, batting away the hand that had tried to shove one in her mouth.

After a minute, he impatiently asked, "Ready now?" He was curious to see how she'd react now.

Sighing, she replied, "Fine."

"Great." He pushed the sugar bowl closer into her hands.

Gingerly, she picked up a pink one decorated with yellow snowflake patterns. She looked at it, turned it around between her fingers, and placed it on her tongue carefully. Almost immediately, she lit up in pure ecstasy.

"Told you you were supposed to eat them."

He didn't think she heard them though because she was busy picking out another to fully appreciate.

.

"Merry Christmas!" She shouted, bouncing on his bed.

Seeing her, he smiled and tossed a box at her.

She deftly caught it but not without indignantly exclaiming, "Hey! Careful with that." She tore at the paper and opened the box gleefully. "Yay! How'd you know?" Mercilessly, she popped two of the brightly colored sugar cubes into her mouth, rolling them on her tongue and savoring their sweetness and lovely texture.

"You weren't exactly subtle with your hints."

She laughed at him, and he joined her, laughing just as happily. It was easy to forget who she was supposed to be, and who he was supposed to be when they were like this. But, then the morning came, and they both remembered.

"Just so you know, the toothpaste is still on my bathroom mirror. The maid refuses to clean it. So, thanks for that."

"Merry Christmas," she repeated.

.

"Do you ever want to go outside?" He asked her.

Her eyes widened noticeably, and she asked him, "Trick question?"

"Curiosity."

"Of course!" She blurted. "They never let us out of the house. They're afraid we'd try to run away," she told him. "They're not wrong," she added with a small shake of her head.

"We can go out tonight, if you want. Eat something other than take out," he suggested.

She nodded eagerly, excitement pouring from her. "I can finally wear that dress you bought me."

He didn't tell her that this was exactly why he had bought her the dress, trying to keep their interactions as casual as he could, trying to keep her from thinking it was a date lest he spook her. He only nodded along with her and waited for her to run and get the dress that she kept in the hallway closet he reserved for her.

.

"I don't think I can eat anymore," she declared after polishing off her dessert.

"Yeah, I don't think they have anymore food even if you wanted," he replied, trying to figure out if he had to roll her to his car.

He paid for dinner, and they both walked to the front of the restaurant, waiting for the valet to come back with his car. A hand pulled at the elbow that Veronica hadn't attached herself to in order to keep herself standing, and he instinctively jerked it out of their grasp, turning around to lash out at the person who dared touch him.

The words were stuck in his throat, however, when he caught sight of the perpetrator.

"Logan, you didn't tell me you were free tonight."

"Because I wasn't, and I'm not," he said, glaring at the older man.

Veronica looked on, confused by the obvious disgust with which Logan regarded the other man.

"My apologies, miss, I didn't mean anything by it," he said, eyes focusing on her. "I just haven't been able to see my son in a long time, and I suppose now I know why."

She held on tighter to Logan and took a halfstep behind him. Logan noticed and he almost growled at him.

Fortunately, the valet returned with his car, and Logan only responded with a tightlipped nod before speeding out of the parking lot.

On the walk up to his apartment, Veronica ventured to ask, "He's your father?"

"In the very loosest definition."

.

Months later, she almost forgot about Logan ever having a father, wrapped up in the paradise she had with Logan. She shouldn't have and will most likely never again. Veronica met Logan's father only once more after the first time and never wanted to ever again.

.

In her and Logan's next meeting, Logan found her on his bed, crying. She'd been crying all day that day and the day before that.

Alarmed, Logan ran to her side, "What's wrong, Veronica?"

"Get away from me," she yelled, voice muffled through her hands and sobs.

"What happened, Veronica?" He asked more firmly.

"Your father," she managed to spit out, still shaking. She thought she'd run out of tears by now, but she was surprised every time she felt her face wet with new waves of them.

Breathlessly, as if he were punched in the gut, he asked, "What did he do?" But, he didn't really wanted to know, didn't need to hear it from her to know.

Dropping her hands from her face, she stared at him with accusatory eyes, "You said I didn't have to worry." Hysterically, she cried, "You said I was off limits! How the fuck did that bastard-how did he-how-why, Logan. Wasn't I your friend? Did I make you mad? What did I do?"

Swallowing thickly, Logan clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly, "You didn't do anything, Veronica. It was my fault."

"How was he able..."

"It's all my fault," Logan repeated. "But I'll make it up to you. You won't ever have to see him again. Would that make you feel better?" He asked, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing as he came up to sit beside her and hold her.

She nodded pathetically.

.

Veronica didn't see much of Logan in the next month, but she stayed in his apartment the entire time. She knew he still thought of her and was taking care of her, though, leaving a fresh bowl of pretty sugar cubes on the kitchen counter for her to look at and perhaps eat. Sometimes, she'd fall asleep without seeing him enter once, and she'd wake up only to know he was there by the pillow and blanket left on the couch.

.

She found small gifts, too, though she doubted they were anything less than freaking expensive. She didn't wear them though, keeping them in a box in her closet, continuing to wait to see him. She missed him. In the time following her private meeting with his father, she didn't want anyone to touch her or see her, but she found herself missing Logan's company anyway.

.

Then, when she was dropped off in his room, blindfolded naturally, she heard a snicker coming from behind her.

"Logan?"

"They still blindfold you after all this time?"

"Logan!" She said, jumping happily. Then, she remembered not to embarrass herself, and coughed softly, pulling the blindfold off. "Where've you been?"

"Around. I'm moving soon."

"Oh?"

"Another loaded 'oh'," he quipped, amused. "You're coming with me," he clarified. "If you want to."

Veronica's jaw dropped inelegantly.

He chuckled at her shock.

Closing it quickly, she huffed and poked a finger at his chest.

"Things have changed," he said cryptically.

She nodded in response, not wanting to question her luck.

Then, realizing she was too speechless to provide much more in terms of conversation, he presented her with a emerald necklace, putting it on her and marveling at them both.

"Looks perfect," he grinned.

"But no sugar cubes?"

"Next time," he promised, rolling his eyes.

.

When Logan said he was moving, he was being modest, which Veronica didn't know could even be possible. The house-no, mansion... no, estate?-was _huge_.

"You want me to live with you here?" She asked, gaping at the immensity of it all.

"Yep."

"You're crazy, but I'll put up with it, just keep the sugar coming."

"Of course, sugar puss," he promised.

.

Then, he said they were going to hold a party and bought her a dress to match the necklace.

"Seriously, Logan. How is this happening? You're barely twenty, and I-"

"I'm surprised it took you this long to ask," he said casually, adjusting his cuff links.

"Well?"

"I'm not on the up and up," he told her.

She figured, but she still hoped. "Oh."

"Disappointed?"

"Do I have a right to be when you've practically saved me?"

He stopped fiddling with the cuff links and looked at her briefly before hanging his head in shame, "I didn't do enough in time."

She kissed him, then.

At the party, everyone offered Logan their condolences, adding that his father was a wonderful man. They also looked at her, examining her with unkind eyes and less kind smiles.

Veronica felt unsettled next to Logan for the first time.

.

Somewhere along the way, Veronica fell for Logan. How could she not? Even when she saw less and less of him, she loved him. If possible, more so.

She told him one day over breakfast, "I think I love you."

He didn't move, so she repeated herself, "I love you."

Swallowing, Logan practically jumped over the table to kiss her, allowing her to lead him to their bedroom.

That blissful state lasted for about a week before he had to get back to business, he said, despite her pleading and nagging.

.

Further down the road, Veronica and Logan moved around several more times, each time to a house more opulent than the last, holding big parties, to which Logan told Veronica that she was the hostess, a role she graciously took on, making sure everything was perfect to make Logan proud of her as well.

Eventually, she started to only see him for a few days at a time every other week. And every day she didn't see him, she was left a gift, which she kept in the box she brought from the first apartment they lived in.

At one of their parties, he asked her, "Why aren't you wearing that new diamond necklace I bought you?"

He sounded almost irritated, and Veronica faltered.

It surprised her because he hadn't noticed that she hadn't been wearing any of the new trinkets he bought her. He usually noticed everything about her, though she didn't know when it started.

She tilted her head to consider him and answered, "I don't like diamonds much."

He nodded slowly without much thought that Veronica could see, and they moved to greet another 'business contact.' And that was the end of that, but the gifted diamonds continued.

Veronica swallowed her feelings with a flute of champagne, smiling alongside him, thinking about the ways she might have displeased him.

.

She saw him on and off again after that. But, then he was gone for four months, with her sitting at their home worrying about him-she never truly found out what he did but she suspected, what with the company they kept and the ubiquitous rumors. That time, he brought back another girl an left the next day, telling Veronica nothing more about the girl except that she was going to help her.

The girl smiled at Veronica insolently, and the black sludge in the pit of Veronica's stomach grew.

.

Every couple of months or so, Logan would bring her back another girl, kissing her goodbye when he left the next day, telling her to take care of the girls because they were there to help her. With each insidious grin that greeted her, Veronica's own smile grew less bright until it was practically a scowl, and Logan still kissed her goodbye until he didn't anymore.

.

One morning, Veronica-having lost count of when she last woke up with Logan-woke to a crash and jumped out of her bed immediately.

She found two of the girls Logan just brought in standing next to broken shards and rainbow colored sand at their feet. Veronica glared at them, and they attempted to stand their ground but eventually skittered away. Veronica, at the very least, still had some authority over them.

Approaching the mess carefully, she realized that the girls didn't spill decorative sand, but rather, they had dropped the sugar bowl. Her sugar bowl.

Stepping through the mess less carefully now, Veronica knelt down, ignoring the cuts that went through her skin, scraping her knees. She picked up a sugar cube that hadn't completely been destroyed, maintaining most of its shape, and placed it on her tongue. It was as sweet as she remembered it, but quickly went and gulped down water to erase the sickening aftertaste that remained.

.

Veronica didn't know when the last time she saw Logan was, but she did know when the last time he had visited the house thanks to the latest addition to the household not shutting up about it. She decided to take matters into her own hands that night and went to his room. Though they had previously been sleeping together, she and Logan still slept in separate rooms. Veronica questioned it constantly, pointing out that he usually slept in her room anyway. Now, she wished she had pressed the issue further back then.

She shook her head to free it from regrets.

Breathing deeply, she steeled herself, gathering up her confidence and opened the door.

He looked more or less the same, older, of course. He had to have been. Time only went in one direction, and Veronica was foolish to expect anything else.

She almost called out to him, but he noticed her first and smiled warmly at her. Her heart swelled, and she smiled back, relieved. It didn't last long.

Setting down his book, he told her, "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing."

He had just complimented her, but she wanted to cry. It must have shown on her face because he stood and pulled her to his bed, stroking her hair, calming her.

"It's okay. Is this your first time?"

She did cry at that.

Logan patiently whispered to her, "What do you want, sweetheart? I'll get you whatever you want if it'll cheer you up. Pretty girls should never be sad." He said the last bit teasingly.

Veronica choked back the sobs, registering that he'd asked her a question. She opened and closed her mouth so many times before finally settling on, "Sugar cubes." She looked at him pointedly.

"Sugar cubes?"

She repeated herself, "Yes, sugar cubes." She held some hope as she watched a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it was gone too soon. Nodding to him, she quietly confirmed again, "Yes. Bright, colorful ones that you can eat. Someone I loved used to get them for me, but... I don't know think he remembers anymore."

"Tomorrow morning," he promised her, kissing her sweetly, reminding her of the very sugar cubes he promised her and used to give her.

He kissed her, and she let him.

.

Logan was true to his words, and in the morning, she woke up alone but had a plate of the wondrous sugar cubes that had first enchanted her set on the nightstand next to his bed. She sat up and took one in her hand, catching the light on them, illuminating the colors further.

She ate one and swallowed quickly.

That afternoon, she simply walked out of the house. No one called her back, and she finally had the freedom she'd didn't know she wanted for so long, so long ago, only to find that it wasn't as sweet as she''d expected.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, that is the ending, a little sad, a little bitter, but it was sweet while it lasted, like sugar cubes. I know I always say this, but I really do hope you all enjoyed this and accept it in lieu of an update to Love Letters, which has approximately two or so more chapters, so... almost there. Once again, minimal editing. I just wanted this out there so I could focus on schoolwork more so without it bugging me. That's one of the reasons anyway. I really wonder when I'll have time to edit my work again... This actually could've gone in so many directions, and with a different ending even, but I think I'll save that for another oneshot, if I remember, I guess.
> 
> Like I alluded to earlier, I have just not feeling it. It's not that I don't love Love Letters or I don't want to finish it (I really do), but I haven't wanted to touch it or a piece of fanart I was supposed to do because of all the change that's been going on in my life, and I've just really been wanting to feel like I'm back at home. Blah blah blah. Anyway, I will wrap it up as soon as I can, though. Hopefully within the month, but school has started for me, so no promises... sorry :(.
> 
> Questions? Comments? Concerns? The office is open, but please be kind in your criticism. I'm having a hard enough time as it is. :(


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